Broken Like Glass
by LaneIA
Summary: A member of the SRU is involved in a life-altering event while responding with the team. How will he recover and find a way back to the team he loves? Like a shattered piece of glass, can a person ever put the pieces back together again?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

The characters of Flashpoint belong not to me, but to some lucky Canadian. Of course if I did own them we wouldn't be waiting for this "mid-season" replacement crap!

This is my first Flashpoint fan fiction, so please go easy on me. I really feel that several of the characters have gotten all of the breaks when it comes to character development (Sam- Sam and Sam – I'm not a big Sam fan if you've noticed. I will try to keep him to character, which I feel is slightly a conceited, brooding ass.)

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Sergeant Greg Parker looked again at the document in his hand. It wasn't unexpected; in fact he had been expecting this for several weeks. As he read the words again, he tried to assess his own feelings about the situation. Part of him was relieved, but being totally honest with himself, he knew that there would be some unease among his team members.

"Hell," he thought to himself. "Even with several Critical Incident debriefings with Doctor Amanda Luria I'm still having a hard time with this. I should have had a better handle on the situation."

Walking into the conference room where his team had assembled for morning meeting he looked around the table where the other six team members waited. They were all laughing and from the look on Sam's face the hilarity came at his expense. The stoic ex-special forces member was often the target due to his overly serious nature.

"All right everyone." Greg laid the memo down beside his chair as he settled in. "I trust that everyone had a good weekend?" A glance told him that everyone appeared to have had an enjoyable time; the rotation for Team 1 getting a weekend off didn't happen often enough.

"Today we are going to be starting off at the shooting range and then we will move into the gym for some close quarters work courtesy of our own Kevin Wordsworth." He glanced at the paper, trying to decide how he would deliver the news. "This afternoon we will do some cleaning and organizing. I'd like the supply area scrubbed out."

"That should be Team Three's responsibility. If they hadn't drug all of that mud and shit in last week that floor would be just fine." Sam groused.

"Be that as it may, we're here today and "we" will take care of it." Greg shot the young man a look that indicated that there would be no more discussion. After making a few more routine announcements, Greg knew he could no longer put off the inevitable.

"I got a memo from Headquarters. It appears that as of tomorrow Tom Jordan will be moving to Team Four."

Jules turned to look at the young man seated next to her, "Congratulations Tom. I guess these last three months with us have paid off."

Tom, a tall and lanky man with thick and curly black hair smiled. "I'm lucky that Malcom Price is taking a change in assignment or else I'd be going back to the squad car. I don't think that I could handle spending the day riding around and writing traffic citations after keeping the world safe."

"To eat pie." Finished Ed and Jules.

"So if Tom is transferring does that mean what I think it does?" Wordy inquired.

"It does." Greg took a deep breath; there was no turning back now. "I know we've all talked about it and several of us have even had extra session with Doctor Luria, but I've got to make sure that this isn't going to be a problem." The faces around the table showed a variety of expressions as each of the teammates reflected on their personal memories of the incident.

"Sarge," Wordy appeared hesitant to speak.

"Go ahead Wordy. What is said here is for the benefit of the team." Greg encouraged.

"I know we all have been briefed what to expect, but I'm worried that I'm going to say or do the wrong thing."

"It is important for him to know that we care and that he is part of the team. That's why," here it comes Greg thought. "Tomorrow we will be standing down and we will all meet as a complete team with Doctor Luria. She feels that the best way to make the transition back if for all of us to talk about it."

"We've already done that!" Sam seemed almost upset over the idea. "Why do we need to re-hash it again? Wouldn't he be better if he didn't think that we were all thinking about what happed that day?"

"Sam, that's what Doctor Luria is worried about. Often the concern about what isn't being said is more destructive than revisiting the situation." Greg leveled his gaze at the team. "So tomorrow we'll be sitting down and going over the incident and we will need to put everything on the table."

Needless to say it was a subdued group that left to head to the shooting range.

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Author's Notes: Yes, I know that you don't know who is being spoken about. That's why it's kind of a cliff-hanger; chapter 2 will revel!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: Thanks for those lovely reviews. It does a lot for encouraging prompt updates! (HINT HINT). This chapter will have quite a few flashbacks. I've marked them with "Flashpoint Flashback", so I hope it doesn't get too confusing.

The next chapter will contain a little more adult content, so I might take it to M for the duration.

I have never been in prison, so everything I've got is from Wikipedia and several other websites. I also wasn't very successful finding a listing of commonly used Flashpoint termanology; so if you know of a site that would help, let me know.

_**Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint**_

He had arrived a little earlier than expected; as if the extra minutes before seeing his teammates would help ease the feelings inside him. Taking these few minutes to allow him to pull on his mask, not a literal mask, but the one he had been crafting since that day and that call. A mask that would show the world that he was whole and that his experience hadn't broken him. It was a lie; the mask would just cover that fact that he was broken, just like a piece of glass that would never be the same even with all of pieces present.

Walking into the locker room, he could hear Team Two gearing up for a day in the gym. He paused, not wanting to make the final turn into the inner room. He knew he should leave, but he was compelled to listen. It was if he craved the normalcy that came with the banter between teammates.

"It's not really fair to us." A complaining voice broke through the other conversations.

"Come on Ted, put yourself in his place." Another male answered.

A laughing voice replied, the pitch high and feminine, obviously a male. "You'd like to be in the position wouldn't you big boy. It would be "hard" to resist!"

"Go to hell Mitch!" This voice sounded angry. "I'd rather take a bullet then to have that happen. I can't even imagine how that call went down."

He was rooted to the wall now; listening to these men discuss him and what had happened. If his fellow officers felt this way, how was his team going to react? The other man had been right, a bullet would have been easier to manage. He pushed himself away from the wall and walked back out of the locker room area.

Taking a long drink from the water fountain, he leveled his breathing and mentally repositioned his mask.

"Hey, good to see you back."

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he flinched before he had the chance to recognize the speaker. "Sorry Ed, I guess I was a little lost in thought. First time back here." He left off, hoping that it would explain his behavior.

"Not a problem. The team hasn't been the same without you here. By the way, I wanted to let you know I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to get over and see you the last couple of weeks. Clark is playing baseball and it seems like he's always got a game."

"It's all right. I've been pretty busy. Doing some things around my place that I didn't have a chance to get done before."

"Nothing like some time off." Ed wasn't sure what else to say and it was obvious that this conversation was quickly becoming strained. "Well, I'm going to go stow some stuff in my locker. I'll see you in a few minutes."

He slapped a smile on his face, "Sure thing Ed." He watched his teammate walk off. Ed Lane had always been one of the most steadfast members of Team One and if he was this uncomfortable he could only imagine how this day was going to go.

Ten minutes later all of Team One along with Doctor Luria were seated around the conference table. The usual chatter and joking had been replaced with silted conversation and uncomfortable silences.

"Greg, lets start with you. Can you take us back on the events of April 10?" Doctor Luria smiled reassuringly at the sergeant. She knew that what they were going to do was the equivalent of pulling the scab off of a wound, but that was sometimes necessary to prevent scarring. Besides, every member of this team needed to deal fully with their feelings.

"All right. We were dispatched at 9:45 A.M. to The East, a fight had broken out in the infirmary and a group of inmates had taken several doctors, nurses and guards hostage. According to what we received there were at least four guards dead.

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Greg had begun speaking to his team as soon as they hit the road. "Spike, do you have the floor plan pulled up yet?"

Sitting in the back of one of the Suburbans, Spike was working furiously on a laptop. "Got it boss. The East is laid out in a modified grid system. Where are they holding the hostages?"

"According to the warden they are holding up in the infirmary."

"Looks like they didn't plan this out very well, it's not very defensible." Spike continued to punch away at the keyboard. "The way the ventilation is set-up, we could pop in tear gas and hit them that way."

"I'd like to try talking them out of it first Spike."

"Ok, I've sent you the plans."

Greg was pulling up the information that Spike had gathered. "What is that access behind the infirmary?"

"According to the blueprints it leads to a loading dock."

Greg scrolled down on the plans. "Alright, we're going to set up base in the loading dock area. Jules, you'll be with me in the command center.

"Copy boss." Jules, riding in the vehicle with Sam and Wordy, rolled her eyes. She spoke to the others in the vehicle. "I think I'd be more use on the ground."

"Think about it Jules. Greg doesn't want you anywhere on the inside."

"Why not?" She couldn't understand because she knew she was as good as her teammates.

"You're a woman Jules." Wordy answered. "This is a men's maximum security prison where they don't see pretty young women often." He left the rest unspoken.

Reddening, Jules stammered a reply. "I didn't think about that." She sat quietly as Greg positioned everyone for action once they arrived.

With 473 inmates, The Toronto East Detention Centre often referred to as simply The East and within it's walls is housed a wide assortmant of felons. As the SRU vehicles pulled up to it they were met by armed guards.

"Sergeant Greg Parker, SRU."

"Yes sir, we've been expecting you. Warden Whitlatch has asked for you to be given whatever you need. He's waiting for you inside."

"We're planning on setting up in the loading dock here, have him meet us there."

"Yes sir."

The inside of the prison was errily quiet, with the exception of guards in the towers there was no one in sight. Pulling into the shelter of the loading dock area the team exited for the vehicles and started pulling out equipment. The side door opened and a guard ushered them inside.

"Sergeant Parker, thank you for coming." Warden Whitlatch had been a muscular man in his youth, but had long since faded into the soft paunch that often accompanies a desk job and too many rich meals. His bulk was encased in a suit and he face was flushed with nervious persperation. "We've got a real situation here."

Greg sat down the computer and looked at the other man. "Tell me everything so far."

"There has been some tensions recently and this morning as breakfast was finishing we had what equates to a gang fight. The guards broke it up and started taking the injuried to the infirmary. Once there, the injuried turned on the guards and took over. One of the guards was able to get away and radio for help. I sent back-up to try and restore order, but they shot them." Whitlatch's voice was hard, "I've had four men die today and four more are on their way to the hospital. I want these bastards out."

"I understand Warden, but our goal will be to get everyone out safely." Greg continued on. "So how did they get the drop on the guards in the infirmary?"

"We believe that the two "gangs" were working together and the fighting was just a ruse. Also according to our records, at least five more men associated with them were already in the infirmary with food poisening. Again we believe this was planned so that there would be extra men at there disposal."

"How many total in this room?" Greg pointed to the on-line blue print.

"As for prison personnel, we believe there are six guards, two doctors and four attendents. As of last night the infirmary had a total of twelve patients, but again we think that five of them were plants."

"How many prisioners were taken there this morning?"

Whitlatch paused and then continued as the embarrasement in his voice became obvious to all. "We don't know. Everything happened so fast, they were trying to break up the fight and get the other prisoners back to their cells. It could have been eight to thirteen more."

"So are the other prisoners locked down?"

"Yes," came the hesitatent answer.

"That's confirmed?" Greg pressed.

"Well, the incident happened as some inmates had already reported for their work assignments. We are trying to account for everyone."

"Beautiful," the reply was sarcastic. "Unknow amount of prisoners in the infirmary and others that may be running loose inside the prision." Greg turned to his men. "Spike, have someone show you where their communications room is, I want you to see if we have eyes inside. I also want to talk to them as soon as you get patched in."

"Copy boss." Spike picked up his bag and motioned to one of the few guards. "You heard the man, communications center."

"Jules, as soon as we start getting names I want as much information as you can give me."

"Copy."

"Ed, you and Lou need to move into position here. Sam and Wordy, I want you here." Greg pointed to the area around the infirmary. "Remember, we won't know who is in on this or just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Copy." Ed replied and then the four men left the command center.

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"What happened then Greg." Doctor Luria prompted.

Greg looked around the table embarrassed; he had trailed off while lost in his own thoughts. Looking at his teammates he could see that all of them, save one, looked uncomfortable with the memories. The other, he thought, seemed almost amused, a look that was out of place with the situation. Deciding to ignore it, he continued.

"We had made contact with the men that had taken over the infirmary."

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"Boss," Spike spoke to Greg. "No eyes, it appears they've disabled the video cameras. I do have the phone line tapped into and it's ready for you, extension 105."

"Thanks Spike." Greg took the phone that had been set up for him and dialed the extension. "Hello, this is Sergeant Greg Parker from the Strategic Response Unit. Who am I talking to?"

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"So up to that point everything was proceeding as planned?"

Greg was still taking the lead, "Yes, we had established that a gang of headed up by a group of Croatians that planned the attack and were hoping to gain release."

"Would you say that everyone was following the protocol?" Dr. Luria continued the questioning.

"Yes. Those team members in the hot zone were partnered up so that someone had their back."

"And the others?"

"When you are not in what we would consider a dangerous spot team members can work independently."

"So Constables Scarlatti and Callaghan were not in what you would consider being risky areas?"

"No, plus there were also prison guards."

"Had the other inmates all been accounted for at that point?"

"We didn't know. The Warden assured us that he was working on it. The likelihood was that if any were still loose that it wouldn't impact the situation."

"So what happened?"

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Greg was worried. He had multiple dealings with Eastern European criminals before and from experience he knew most were not afraid to go down in a blazing gun battle, hoping to take as many others with them as possible. The leader of the group had started off very unstable and everything that Greg had tried did nothing to deescalate the situation.

"Wordy. Are you picking up much in there?" Greg had put them into an interior room and with a boom microphone they were trying to listen in to the conversations taking place in the infirmary.

"I don't speak Croatian, but the tone sounds pretty upset."

"Jules, get that translator on line and get me some information. Spike, come on back to command and get ready to help Lou with less lethal."

"Copy."

"Copy."

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"So you were getting the team ready to move?"

"Yes."

"When did you discover something was wrong?"

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Spike had left the room that contained the surveillance monitors and was heading back to the command center. He had looked over the plans for the prison and knew that he would be able to cut some travel time by heading through several prison industry areas.

The laundry room was ahead and next would be the wood shop, Spike noticed the lights were off and doors were shut. He was passing the room where the prison clothing was constructed when he noticed the lights were on. Pausing he looked into the small reinforced glass window.

Inside he could see a man in the typical prison uniform of white t-shirt and blue jeans. "Boss, I've got some movement. Looks like one prisoner."

"Copy that Spike. Secure him or bring him here and hand him off. We can't have him becoming a problem."

"Copy." Spike moved quietly into the room, his weapon H & K MP5 leveled. The man was moving around by the stacks of material. "Police. Put your hands on top of your head and turn around very slowly."

The man followed directions and turned around slowly, a big grin across his face.

Spike frowned, "What's so funny?"

A voice from behind Spike replied, "This!"

There was no time to react as a blow from behind hit Spike in the head. His finger tightened on the MP5's trigger releasing a five round burst that went high and right as he went down.

Stunned, but not unconscious thanks to his helmet, Spike felt the gun being pulled from his grasp. Hands reached down and pulled the strap holding the gun over his head. Another set of hands removed the Glock 17 from his side holster. Spike tried to roll over and prevent himself from being disarmed, but a boot came down firmly on his chest.

"Don't think so Constable." The voice was full of sarcasm at the word constable. "I think we've found ourselves a little lost piggy." The man looked at the three others with him. "Get him up and out of his gear, I don't want to be surprised with a back-up weapon and we certainly don't need him talking to his friends."

Pulled to his feet Spike struggled to stand, the blow to the head had really stunned him. Hands pulled off the web and gear attached to his uniform. His helmet was un-strapped and tossed to the side and his communication device was yanked from his ear.

From behind he could feel hands patting him down, looking for any weapon concealed upon him. The hands continued higher and suddenly he felt a hand grabbing onto his genitals. The grasp was tight and unexpected and it elicited a groan of pain.

"Easy with him. We don't want to damage Toronto's finest." The man who appeared to be the leader spoke.

The hand released him and Spike could feel hot breath on his neck. "And where's the fun in that?"

"Work first, fun later." The leader spoke. "Tie him up and lets discuss our plan."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's notes: The site was going crazy, I kept posting chapter 3 and it's dumping in chapter 2, so I'm hoping (AGAIN) that 3 is posted.

Please be warned that this story has moved to M for a reason. There are going to be somewhat graphic descriptions of adult situations. I do not want to appear to condone or minimize the effects of non-consensual sexual behavior. In my researching this story I was shocked to see how prevalent it appears to be.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Doctor Luria sat back and listened to the members of Team One tell their story. Greg had started off and when he could add no more there was silence as they waited for someone to continue.

Taking a deep breath, Ed spoke slowly, "We knew that Spike was supposed to be coming back to the command center and to help Lou with getting ready to go less lethal. I can remember hearing Greg trying to raise him several times. I think Greg was going to pull someone to start looking for him when we had shots fired inside the infirmary."

"It sounded like World War III cooking off inside there." Sam inserted. "Then, it stopped just like that and we could hear someone screaming in Croatian."

"I was able to get the leader back on the phone. He told me that several of the guards had tried to overpower them and several were injured."

"The translator had told us that they were planning on killing everyone if they weren't given their demands." Jules added. "Greg had already called out Team Three to assist and they had arrived, so things were a little chaotic."

"I knew that Spike hadn't shown up yet, but when things escalated I had to focus on trying to get the hostages out safe." The review board had already cleared Greg, but he still felt the need to rationalize his decisions. "I figured that Spike was busy securing a prisoner and he would come as soon as he could."

A noise escaped from behind Spike's lips, and the mask he had plastered on had slipped momentarily.

The doctor spoke reassuringly to Spike. "What were you thinking Michael?"

"That my teammates were going to have my back." There was a wavier in his voice and he quickly swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand.

_**Flashpoint Flashback Flashpoint Flashback Flashpoint Flashback**_

_He was pushed over to a chair and forced down on it. His hand reached up to where he had been hit and felt the lump that had risen. Spike wasn't surprised when the tips of his fingers came back red._

"_Give me your hands."_

_Spike reluctantly held out his hands in front of him. _

"_No, behind his back." A voice commanded._

_His arms were pulled tightly behind the chair and a set of riot cuff from his own equipment were placed around his wrists and tightened. He could feel the bite of the plastic into his flesh and the inmate pull them as tight as possible._

"_All right. From the looks of it we ain't going to be able to meet with the others at the infirmary. So what should we do?" One of the men queried. _

_Turning his attention to the prisoners, Spike noticed that there were a total of four men. The larger man with a large roman nose and a shaved head appeared to be the leader. The_ _others seemed to turn to him for directions. Glancing around the room, Spike realized that they were now further back and the door out of the room was not visible. _

"_Don't even think about it." A hard slap to the back of his head caused the stars to dance in front of his eyes again._

"_Easy John, we might need him." Baldy intoned._

"_I could use him." Another voice from beside him responded._

_Two others laughed and Baldy smiled as he replied, "I'm sure you could, but like I told you before, play is later."_

"_A shame." The voice was in Spike's ear now. "I'd guarantee you wouldn't like how I play." A wet tongue ran up the side of Spike's neck and the man laughed at Spike's discomfort._

"_So, what then?" A man with dark curly hair and meaty forearms spoke._

"_We have two guns now, but that's not going to do us any good inside. We need to make a break for it." He leveled his gaze on Spike, "Constable, how many others are with you and where are they at?"_

_Spike remained silent. He planned on refusing to give any information that could help these felons._

"_Come on now, we're going to find out anyway. Wouldn't you rather save yourself some pain and us the time it's going to take to beat it out of you?"_

"_Go to hell." Spike spat out and was promptly rewarded with a fist smashing into his face. His nose splattered blood over the front of his shirt._

"_Stupid, just stupid. Now, I'll ask again. How many? Where?"_

"_No." Spike's response was thick as he felt another fist to the face, this one catching his eye and rocking his head backwards._

_"I don't know about you, but I can go on beating your brains out for a while." Baldy's voice was cold. "I'm sure Frank can also think of some ways to get you talking. The new fish love to sing for him."_

"_Come on, let me see if he'll whisper some sweet nothings into my ear." The man, Frank, moved over to Spike's side and lewdly rubbed himself again the bound man._

_Shaking his head, Baldy spoke. "Not yet." Catching Spike's face in his hand he squeezed tightly, "One more chance, tell me what I want to know or I'm going to let Frank convince you his way."_

_He could feel his eye swelling shut when his face suddenly was grabbed in a vise-like grasp. Spike couldn't let the team down by giving this man information that could jeopardize the safety of the others. "I can't tell you." The hand around his jaw contorted Spike's voice._

"_So brave, trying to protect the others. But are they here for you? No. They don't care about what is happening to you. I could put a bullet in your gut and watch you bleed out all over this floor and you will die alone." Baldy watched the words take effect. "I know your type, I've seen during the war. Young Serbs would walk into the slaughter because of the idea that it was the greater good. You think that dying for the cause will make it a good death."_

_Baldy looked at Frank and then back down to Spike. "You won't die here Constable, but you might wish you had. Frank, he is yours. Don't kill him and I want his uniform."_

"_No problem." Frank started to run his hands along Spike's shirt clad torso. "I'll be careful not to break him to bad."_

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Spike's hands were shaking around the glass of water he was holding. He had stopped talking to take a drink, the cool water hitting his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment; the memories that he relived everyday since then flooding back into focus.

Dr. Luria had worked with Michael several times a week since the incident and could understand the mental pain he was experiencing. He had made his decisions based on the good of the team and now his fear was that his team was going to reject him.

She had met individually with the members of Team One and had tried to help them with the understanding of what had transpired. Of course she couldn't share everything with them; that would be up to him.

"Michael? Are you ready to continue?" She prompted quietly. Amanda watched as he opened up his eyes, the hurt evident in them.

"Yes," Spike sat the water down and his eyes focused on the glass; beads of condensation slipping down the sides. "They took my uniform off. They had decided to try and bluff their way out."

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_Baldy had outlined his plan quickly for the others. They would use Spike's uniform and one of them would go looking for a way to a vehicle. Once that person had found a way, he would come back and lead the others out posing as prisoners._

_With the help of another man they cut the cuffs and then Frank delighted in stripping Spike. His hands wandered and roamed, roughly touching and pulling. Putting new cuffs on, Frank pressed against the bloody welts that the plastic strips had created. Every gasp or pain-filled moan by Spike appeared to excite the man even more. Now the young constable was sitting in his underwear and Frank was crouched down next to him whispering._

_Baldy had pulled on Spike's uniform and was strapping equipment back on. Placing the helmet on his head, he removed it to adjust the straps. "Frank, remember. He stays alive."_

"_No problem." He laughed as his fingers wrapped around Spike's hair and pulled his head back. "You look good as a pig, maybe you have a new career to think about."_

_Smirking, Baldy moved in the direction of the door, "We've got to get free first." Throwing a glance at the other two men, "Don't let him get carried away."_

_Frank laughed, "Don't worry boys, I'll share."_

_John shook his head; "Fag action doesn't do anything for me. I'm looking forward to some pussy."_

"_Regardless, he lives." Baldy left._

_Frank smiled at Spike and pulled him to his feet. "Come on little piggy. Time to play."_


	4. Chapter 4

Author's notes: I decided to go ahead and take this back to a lower level since I did not go graphic….I tried to keep it cleaner than a steamy Harlequin romance. Let me know if you think that it crosses any boundaries. Remember it is still a dark story.

Flashpoint Flashback Flashpoint Flashback Flashpoint Flashback

_Frank smiled at Spike and pulled him to his feet. "Come on little piggy. Time to play."_

_Spike twisted out of Frank's grasp and tried to make a break for the door only to be restrained by the other two men who had been watching the exchange. The one with the dark hair laughed at Spike's attempts to wrestle free of their grasps, his movements becoming more and more frenzied._

"_What's wrong?" He laughed. "Don't want what Frankie has for you?"_

"_Don't!" Spike tried using the negotiation techniques that he had been trained in. "You don't want to add to the trouble you're already in."_

"_Trouble?" Frankie laughed. "Friend, we all have murder convictions already. What's another year or two? Besides if things work out, we'll be gone and I'll still get to play." He motioned to a cutting table, "Bring him over here."_

_Spike tried to brace his feet against the floor, but without boots his stocking feet slid along the painted concrete._

_Rubbing his hand along Spike's face Frank smiled at him. "I like it when they fight back. It's the ones that lay there and take it that are no fun." With that he punched Spike in the stomach hard enough to cause the young man to double over._

_Frank shoved Spike onto the table. "Hold him for me." He instructed the others as he dropped his pants._

_Feeling his briefs being pulled down over his thighs Spike tried to push himself up from the table. The other men pushed his shoulders back down. Behind him he could hear Frankie spitting and he could feel the proximity of the other man. Suddenly he felt pressure and the screams echoing in his ears were his own._

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He had to stop again, his throat felt raw and he reached for the glass. Spike drank the water and as he tipped the glass up he could see the faces of his teammates, a mixture of emotions were played out on their faces. Setting the glass back on the surface to the table he looked down at the ring that had formed.

"Michael." Dr. Luria said prodded. She knew she couldn't let this young man climb back inside himself.

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He was past fighting. Frank had finished and the other man had taken his place. The pain and humiliation had won out and he no longer cared. It was as if he had left himself and was watching this happen to someone else.

"_Hey, pull up your pants Paulie, we're getting out of here." He tossed some shirts onto the table._

_Baldy had returned and quickly outlined the plan to the others. They were going to take one of the SRU's vehicles with Baldy continuing to pose as a member. He had found several uniform shirts and the others were going to wear those and they would try to slip out during the confusion. _

"_What are we going to do with him?" John motioned towards the officer who was now lying on the floor._

"_Tie him up." Baldy looked down at where Spike lay with his, arms still cuffed behind his back Nudging him with his foot, Baldy watched the sluggish reaction. "I'm sure someone will stumble across him eventually."_

_John grabbed some material from one of the shelves and tore it into a suitable strip. Grabbing Spike's legs he bound them together._

_Grabbing Spike's underwear Frank joked. "Something to remember you by. Here's a little something from me." He aimed a kick at the prone man. "Remember if you screw with us, we screw with you." He laughed at his own wit._

"_Come on, let's go." Baldy motioned and the men moved out of the room, shutting the lights off as they left._

_Lying in the dark Spike wondered if he went to sleep if he would wake up and find that this had been a horrible dream. He closed his eyes and prayed._


	5. Chapter 5

Author's notes: Here is a small chapter. We are leaving on vacation tomorrow and I'll be computer free for at least 8 days. So, everyone reading this…flood me with reviews letting me know what you think. Remember reviewing is good for the soul! Pensacola here we come!!!

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

There had been a lengthy silence when Spike had finished describing what had occurred to him. The others looked around, not sure if someone should speak.

Clearing his throat, Lou looked at his friend. "I was getting the gear ready and Spike still hadn't made it back, so I told the Sarge. I never thought anything bad would happen, the prisoners were supposed to be locked up." Lou pointed out.

Greg picked the narrative back up. "We had Team Three in place and negotiations weren't going well. I was so focused on trying to get the hostages out and coordinating with Robert's team. I had Ed, Wordy and Sam positioned and there was no way I could have pulled them out to check on Spike."

"The last radio contact with him had been over 20 minutes, but I hadn't tried to raise him." Jules added. "I should have noticed."

"The situation had gotten really hairy when they started shooting." Sam looked at Jules, his instinct was to try and protect her from the guilt she was expressing. "It was something that anyone could have missed."

"But looked what happened to him."

Spike's head came up and he looked at his team with anger snapping in his eyes. "Hey, I'm sitting right here. Could you at least pretend that this isn't about you feeling guilty?"

"Spike, easy man. We're just trying to work through what we are feeling too." Greg spoke in a reassuring tone to his young team member.

"Feelings! Greg, you want to talk about feelings? How about being raped by two men while you wait for your friends, your teammates to rescue you but they've forgotten about you." Spike's voice was a harsh whisper. "You sit here tell yourself that you did everything you could, but did you?" Spike stood up and looked at Doctor Luria. "I'm sorry Doc, I don't think I can do this any more."

"Michael, we can give you a break if you need it." She had been working with him long enough to know that he had covered a lot of emotional ground and voicing his feelings were what he needed to do.

"No. I'm done here. Greg, I'll get you my resignation letter tomorrow." Spike stood up and walked out of the room leaving stunned silence behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's notes: Sorry for the delay. School started back and I've been swamped!! My information dealing with sexual assault from the male perspective comes from The National Center for the Victims of Crime.

I'm trying to handle a sensitive issue in a respectful manner. Please let me know if I've gotten it right. Review please.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

The room was absolutely silent in the wake of Spike's departure. The members of Team One looked at one another as if willing someone to talk and break the terrible quiet.

"That went well." Sam's voice held more than a hint of sarcasm. "I guess the group hug won't be happening."

"Don't be a dick," Lou scowled. "I feel like the world's crappiest friend. I went and visited him, but I thought he was doing o.k. with things."

"I think we are all did." Greg inserted. "Hell, they wouldn't have cleared him to come back for this if they didn't think he was one hundred percent. Would they Doc?" He looked over at Dr. Lura.

"No, but I had my suspicion that Michael was still experiencing some anger and embarrassment." She looked at the young man's teammates. "He doesn't know how to let go of the anger he feels towards his attackers. There seems to be something he hasn't worked through yet."

"I think he's really mad at us as well." Jules responded quietly. "I know I feel like I've let him down."

"We didn't talk about it today, but he knows that none of you did your job any differently than he would have. He has been dealing with feelings of abandonment, but I thought we had worked through it. Coming from such a close family he has transferred those feeling of family over to all of you and so it has been difficult for him to forgive himself for feeling angry at you."

"So, should I go after him and see how he's doing?" Lou asked.

"I think Greg would be the better choice in this situation. Michael has associated Greg with the father figure in his life."

Ed looked at his friend and co-worker, "I guess that settles the debate over who looks older."

"Funny." Greg took a deep breath. "I think I'll give him a little bit of a head start. I'm assuming he's heading home."

"Remember he's very sensitive about the abandonment issue, so don't give him too much time to think about it." The doctor stood and picked up her notes. "Tell Michael I'll call him later today to talk about setting up a time for him to see me."

"I wish you could go with me Doctor." Greg wasn't looking forward to the task ahead.

"Greg, you talk criminals into surrendering everyday, I think you'll do just fine with talking to someone who already trusts you."

"Trust me." Greg repeated. "I hope I don't let him down again.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

"They didn't even try to stop me." Spike spat aloud as he threw his keys at the wall after he let himself into the basement apartment he occupied. "God damn it!" Spike let the his gear bag hit the floor.

He could hear tentative footsteps on the floor above him. His mother was moving about; trying to be quiet. The advantages of living at home were quickly diminishing. Now, the idea of absolute privacy and the anonymity that living in an apartment building with hundreds of others seemed attractive to him.

When he arrived at the hospital he had been coherent enough to tell his doctor to spare his mother the details of his attack. She knew he had been injured and that was enough. For the first days at home she had been almost reluctant to leave him alone and she had been his shadow ever since.

It was times like this that Spike missed his father. A heart attack three years ago had robbed them of the passionate Italian who would his darling wife to "stop smothering the boy".

Spike had moved back in with his mother to help with the initial grief and shock. She was doing just fine now; she would have to be because he had to get out. "Why?" Spike's inner voice spoke to him softly. "What are you afraid of? That she'll find out and hate you for it; that her baby couldn't even protect himself?"

"No!" Spike's voice was shaky, even to his own ears. He walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of beer, carrying it over to the sofa. Sitting down he flipped on the tv.

He was rolling the channels when he stopped short. A local news broadcast was reporting on a string of home invasions. The most recent had left the family dead. A security camera in the home had produced a grainy shot of one of the suspects; a bald man with a large nose. The bottle slipped from Spike's fingers and he was oblivious to the beer spilling across the carpet. The sound of the t.v. no longer reached his ears; replaced by his thudding heart and deep breathing.

Spike had known that Baldy and the others had escaped that day and they were still on the loose, but he assumed they would have gotten out of Toronto. Getting up, he moved woodenly to the door and checked that he had locked it. They had known his name. It had been on his uniform. They could look it up in the phonebook and find him.

"Calm down." The inner voice was back. "It's been weeks. If they had wanted to target you they would have done it already. He's not coming for you." Spike's breathing was evening out as he worked to bring himself back under control.

Moving back to the sofa he stepped in the damp spot created by the beer. Cursing he went to the kitchen area and grabbed a towel to clean it up. On his hands and knees mopping the liquid he was startled by a knock on the door.

Leaving the towel, he crossed to the door and looked through the peephole. He was surprised to see Greg Parker standing outside. Spike stood for a minute wondering if he should acknowledge his boss. Perhaps if he was quiet Greg would leave. Shaking his head Spike knew the answer to that. Greg Parker was nothing if persistent. Unlocking the door, Spike opened it cautiously.

Greg had known that Spike was at home; his truck was in the driveway. He could also hear someone on the other side of the door and he would be willing to bet that Spike was looking at him through the peephole. Greg had already decided that he wasn't going back until he had the chance to speak to Spike. If he had to stand outside the door for a while, so be it. He was actually surprised when Spike opened so quickly. "Hello Spike. Can I come and talk"

Spike hadn't gotten a word out before Greg had spoken. Stepping back, he motioned to Greg to enter. Shutting the door, Spike could smell the sharpness of the spilt beer. He knew that the older man smelled it too. "Sorry about the odor. I spilled a beer just a moment ago."

"Not a problem. Do you need a hand cleaning it up?" Greg tried to keep his voice neutral. The last thing he wanted was to put his young officer on the defensive.

"No, I think I've got most of it mopped up. Let me get that towel." Spike picked up the towel and headed towards the kitchen. "Have a seat."

"Thanks." Greg waited a moment before continuing. "Nice place you have here."

"What, were you afraid that living in my mom's basement meant that I was sleeping on an old sofa by the water heater?" Spike couldn't keep the spite out of his voice.

"He's hurting and wants to fight." Greg told himself. "Don't let him get to you." Shaking his head and putting on a smile that he hoped look genuine Greg continued. "No, I'm not surprised at all. There was no way that all those girls would stick around if you were bringing back to that."

"So what do you want? I'm not coming back." Spike decided that he wasn't going to play games. He had made up his mind and Greg wasn't going to change that.

"That's exactly what I want Spike. You're a damn good officer and I don't want to loose that. I want the best for my team and that includes you." What made Greg Parker good at his job was his tenacity and he was determined to help Spike see his mistake.

"Right. I could see exactly how much everyone wanted me back." Spike's voice rose slightly. "I'm just a god damned reminder of what happened. They see me and all they think about is me being the prison bitch!"

"Spike." Greg's voice was calm. "What they see is their friend and they feel guilty that they let that friend down."

"So, I'm the poster boy for Guilt of the Month Club? No problem, they can feel bad as they want, but what I can't handle having everyone look at me with pity because I'm damaged goods. I know that. I couldn't even protect myself so how can they trust me to have their back." Spike's anger had dissolved into a quiet desperation.

That statement took Greg by surprise. "Spike, no one thinks that. What happened to you could have happened to anyone."

"That's crap and you know it. Sam, Ed, you; none of you would have let yourself get taken like that."

"You were overpowered Spike, held at gunpoint and tied down. You were not a willing participant. You didn't ask for this to happen."

Spike's face flushed and he looked away embarrassed. He didn't want to think about this any more.

Sensing that there was something being left unsaid, Greg spoke reassuringly to Spike. "You didn't have a choice Spike. You know that, right?" The other man remained silent. "Spike, I need you to talk to me. You can't feel like you've done anything wrong."

"I came."

The reply was so low that for a moment Greg wasn't sure he had heard anything. He waited and slowly the word formed in his mind, the missing part to Spike's own guilt; to be betrayed by his own body. "Spike."

"He was raping me and he kept stroking me, telling me that I liked it. That he could tell because I was so hard. I came in his hand and he wiped it on me," Spike couldn't stop the words from spilling from his mouth. "He said that he could tell that I liked it, that coming just proved it. He said he would come and visit me so we could do it in my bed." His voice was thick with emotion. "That I was his now."

Greg reached out and gently placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Spike, the body doesn't always respond the way that we intend. Erections are more a matter of an involuntary physiological reaction. It doesn't mean that you liked it or that you consented to it. What it means is that he forced your body to respond the way he wanted it to."

Spike lowered his head and the unshed tears now coursed down his face, his shoulders heaving with the sobs that threatened to break free of his throat. "The others laughed, they said it proved that I was gay." He looked at his boss, "I'm not gay."

"I know that Spike, I know. He wanted to feel power over you and so he took it anyway he could." Greg let the other man cry, hoping that the tears would wash away the guilt Spike was carrying. "You can't let him take any more from you Spike, if you do he keeps winning."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's notes: Sorry about the really long delay. If you want the detail I can give them to you, but believe me when I say….I was really busy!!! Plus my creative spark was on low, even though I knew what I was planning for my favorite guy.

By the way, I've watched the first few episodes of season 3(?) on line, since we poor Americans can get it until that stupid doctor show tanks. I did go out and buy season 1 on DVD last night!! Anyway, there is a slight touch of foreshadowing for Season 3 ep 1, but nothing major.

**Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint**

Greg had remained at Spike's for several hours. The younger man had spent the time alternating between anger and tears. He raged at the men who had attacked him; spoke about the guilt he felt when he thought about his perceived lack of skills that allowed for his capture and his frustration with feeling alienated from the team. He also talked to Greg about seeing the video footage of the home invasion and recognizing Baldy.

With a possible lead, Greg excused himself long enough to place a call to headquarters. The idea of a possible lead on the case was the first break they had. After hanging up, Greg returned his attention to his young team member.

"Spike, I'm not going to lie to you. I want you back on the team and so do the others. We trust you." Greg could see the anguish in Spike's eyes. "Every day that we go out there, we have each other's back. Sometimes even that isn't enough and things happen. SRU has lost good men before. There are times that even the best isn't enough and the bad guys win. But we keep going. Why? There are times I can't answer that question. There have been times when I've been ready to call it quits."

A moment passed and Spike questioned, "What brought you back?"

"Because I know if I did, I would question myself every time something bad happened and I would wonder if I could have been the one to make a difference." Pausing Greg let the meaning sink in. "Think of all the times you've been part of something good with the team. We have made this little part of the world safer for the people who live here. You've made that difference."

"I don't know if I can go back and face the team." Spike's voice was hesitant. "If I were them, I'd hate me."

"Do you hate them?"

"No. There was a part of me that was angry because of what happened, but I know that everyone was doing their job."

"So why do you thing they should hate you?" Greg pressed.

"Because I let them down. I didn't stay strong enough to keep things from happening. Now there are four guys out there killing people, because I let them get away."

"Hold on. You can't take the blame for that. The hostage situation and breakout happened; regardless of what you think you did or didn't do." A part of Greg wanted to reach out and shake some sense into Spike. The idea that he felt responsible for the actions of the escapees was irrational. _"I'd feel the same way." _Greg's inner voice chimed in. "I can understand why you might feel this way. It's wrong and we both know that, but if you want to do something about it the best way is to come back to work and help us catch these guys before they strike again."

"How?" Spike questioned. "We're not the investigators."

"There is nothing that says we can't try to run down what we know and see if we can determine where they might strike next." Greg encouraged. "We get in touch with the constables working on the case and offer our assistance."

"I don't know Boss." Spike ran a weary hand over his face. "Can I sleep on it tonight and get back to you?"

"Sure Spike." Greg stood and placed a hand on Spike's shoulder. "Lou was pretty worried about you. He wanted to come with me but I thought we should talk first. Why don't you call him and let him know how you're doing."

Spike nodded. "Will do Boss. Thanks for listening today. I know Dr. Luria wanted me to resolve things with the team. I screwed that up royally."

"Everyone on that team understands where you're coming from. Just trust them." Greg squeezed Spike's shoulder reassuringly. "Trust me."

Spike stood, the hand falling from his shoulder. "I do Boss."

Greg, knowing what the young man needed, pulled him into a hug. "Thanks Spike."

The two men broke the embrace and Greg moved to the door. "See you at 7:30 tomorrow?"

"I'll sleep on it," Spike acknowledged. "I want to be back."

"Good. See you in the morning." Greg smiled and closed the door. He stood for a moment on the step and took a deep breath. _"I really hope you're there in the morning."_

Inside, Spike sat down and turned the television on. He kicked off his shoes and lay down. The emotions that he had dealt with that day had made him feel exhausted. With in moments he was asleep.

**Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint**

"I tell you we need to get the hell out of here."

"If we hit a few more houses we should be able to get enough that we can get some new names and the correct papers. Then we can cross the boarder and find something better." Petar Jovanović, better known to Spike as "Baldy', crossed to one of the beds in the room and sat down. "Living in this place is no better than being back in prison."

"With your picture out there we are going to have to be even more careful." Frank was blindly rolling through the limited television channels available.

"Whose fault is that?" Petar turned threateningly towards Frank. "Your job was to make sure that any such devices were disabled!"

"They must have had a back-up battery. I cut the power." Frank seemed unconcerned over the other man's anger. "Besides, that picture was so bad only your mother would recognize you."

"Of that I'm not to sure of. Someone will make the connection."

"So wear a hat, grow a mustache."

"After I've been out walking around in this neighborhood? Someone will see the picture and turn me in for the reward."

"You said yourself, several more jobs and we are done for here. Maybe we should just speed up the schedule and blow town?" Frank groused.

The sound of a key in the door caused both men to pause. Petar pulled out a gun and moved to a position that would hide him from the view of the person at the door.

The door opened slowly and John entered the room. Turning to shut the door he saw Petar standing behind the door. "You're not going to shoot me are you? The cops wouldn't use a key."

"You can never be sure." Petar moved away from the wall and over to a chair. "So what did you find out?"

"My friend confirmed that his boss always brings the deposit home with him on Saturdays and doesn't take it to the bank until Monday." John sat on the far bed, careful not to put himself too close to Frank. "He doesn't want to know any plans, that way if he's questioned about it he can answer truthfully."

"So how does he know that this is the boss's routine?" Frank turned his attention away from the television.

"He's been at this place for over a year and when he works the closing the boss takes the cash bag."

"So we watch on Saturday and if he goes straight home we will hit it." Petar's tone was final.

"Perhaps this one will be enough." John was tentative.

"If we get enough." Petar was noncommittal; he wanted to leave Canada with enough cash in his pocket to allow him to arrive in the States with a bankroll.

"Paulie was smart." Frank looked at Petar. "He got the hell out of the city right away."

"His girlfriend was more than happy to help him. Too bad you didn't have someone waiting for you on the outside; a boyfriend perhaps?" The reply to Frank's comment was heavy with disgust.

"Maybe I should have looked for my little friend the constable. I told him I would visit him." Frank grabbed himself suggestively. "I'm feeling a little lonely."

"Contact anyone and I'll kill you myself. The last thing we need is more attention."

"Calm down Petar, I was only joking." Frank turned his attention back to the screen, but the kernel of an idea was starting to grow. "I'm hungry, does anyone else want something?"

"Sure, I could eat." John looked up from the paper he was reading.

"Get something better than the shit you picked last night." Petar picked up the remote that Frank had abandoned. "It was almost as bad as the food in the East."

"I'll get Thai. How does chicken pad thai sound." Frank appeared to be more cheerful than normal.

"What ever. Hurry back and be god damned careful."

"I will." Frank opened the door and headed out.

**Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint**

The ringing of the phone finally penetrated the thick fog of sleep that had engulfed Spike. Rolling over on the couch, he reached out for the phone. Putting it to his ear he answered, his voice gravely. "Hello."

"Hey buddy, I'm just calling to see if you want to get together for supper tonight." Lou's voice was upbeat.

Swinging his legs around and sitting up, Spike rubbed his face trying to wake up. "Umm, I don't know."

"Knowing you there probably isn't a decent meal in the house. I'll pick up a pizza and come over." Lou didn't give Spike a chance to back out. "I should be there by 7pm."

"Sure Lou." Spike paused a moment. "Thanks buddy."

"No problem. We can start planning our vacation. What do you say to Jamaica?"

Spike laughed and Lou could hear the man his friend had been before. "What?" Lou tried to sound indignant. "I suppose you have a better idea?"

"No man. It's just all I can think of is that you'll probably end up with a better tan than I would." Spike teased his friend.

"I can't help it you didn't get the Scarlatti genes that included the ability to tan." Lou shot back. "Think about it though. A guy I know from school went there and said it was amazing. Warm water and blue skies."

"That sounds great. Hey don't you need to get going and grab that pizza? A man can starve to death waiting for his friend to bring food."

"Ok, see you soon Spike." Lou hung up.

Spike pushed himself up from the couch. Having spoken to Lou he felt a little more on an even keel. It was almost like everything was like it was before. The phone started ringing again and he picked it up. Leave it to Lou to forget something. "Hey, did you forget what I like?"

"No I didn't Constable Scarlatti."

"Who is this?" Spike's stomach clenched. He knew who it was, but he was frozen with the phone to his ear.

"You remember me. I told you I was going to visit you when I was out. I couldn't get enough of your sweet ass last time. Maybe this time we'll do it at your place."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's notes: As always, the characters belong to other people with lots of money. I do own Frank, Petar and John...not that I want them.

Sorry about the huge delay with this. My spark had went out and not until yesterday was I able to re-light it for continuing this story. Those who have hung tight, thank you. Please remember to feed the writer..we eat up reviews and it gives us the energy to continue.

Also, remember the subject matter within this story is dark. I in no way condone the behavior of others who might participate in this type of activity. I hope that I do not make light of the seriousness of it and that the emotions I have the characters express are true.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Lou pulled into the driveway of the Scarlatti home. He wasn't surprised to see the upper level was dark. It was Tuesday night and that meant that Mrs. S would be at her sister's house having supper. Lou smiled to himself; he knew just as much about Spike's family as he did his own.

Following the sidewalk to the back of the house he frowned slightly; the lower level of the home was dark as well.

Knocking at the door he was surprised when no one answered. Lou pulled out his key and unlocked the door while balancing the pizza with his free hand. Reaching around the corner for the switch he could see the outline of a person sitting at the table. "Spike? It's me, Lou."

Not receiving a reply, he flipped on the switch. The light filled the room and Lou was surprised to see his friend sitting at the table with a gun in his hand and a look of hopelessness on his face. Lou sat the pizza on the counter and looked over to where his friend sat. Spike had laid the gun on the table and was now looking at it blankly. "Spike, buddy, what's wrong?" Not receiving an answer, Lou walked over to his friend and knelt down beside him. "What's going on? Finding you sitting in the dark with a gun pointed at me wasn't the welcome I expected."

"I got a phone call. It was him." Spike's tone was flat and emotionless.

"Who called you Spike?"

"Frank Stephenopolous. He called and told me he was coming to see me."

Lou was shocked. "Did you call headquarters? Are they sending someone out?"

A short, bitter laugh escaped Spike's lips. "So I can prove again that I can't take care of myself? This time I'm going to deal with it."

"How, with a gun? Are you going to sit there and wait for the first person to walk through the door and pull the trigger?" Lou's voice had a hard edge to it. "That's not the type of person you are."

"Maybe not before, but I am now. I'm going to blow his fucking head off."

Allowing his own anger to boil up, Lou spoke tersely to his friend. "Enough! You can't go on thinking that anything that happened was your fault. Show me the person who can take on four guys at once in a fight and not get the shit kicked out of them. It only happens in the movies. We are trained to do a lot, but it doesn't make us invincible. If you want to make peace with yourself you need to find a way to do it without compromising your principles."

"Gee Lou. I didn't realize that you had gotten a degree in psychology while I was gone. So Oprah, how do you suggest I do that?" Spike's voice was rich with sarcasm.

"A good start would be to help put these guys back behind bars where they belong."

"You want me to sit here and wait until they show up on my doorstep? We're right back to my plan. Except they'll be dead."

"We contact headquarters. They put a trace on your phone, they provide surveillance, they do the same things you do to run down the bad guys." Lou placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But most of all you need to let go of this anger because it's eating you up inside."

"It keeps me warm."

"It might feel like it, but it's making you cold." Lou pulled out his cell phone. "Make the call Spike."

A thousand emotions played out over the young man's face; a long minute passed and then another. Lou waited quietly, he knew if he were to speak that he would lose this argument.

Spike sighed lightly and held out his hand. "I'll do it."

Lou pulled out plates and sat them on the table. Opening the refrigerator he pulled out sodas and placed them beside the plates. He tried to be as unobtrusive as possible while Spike spoke to Greg.

When Spike clicked the phone shut he looked at Lou with a ghost of a smile. "I hope there are olives on that pizza."

Smiling back, Lou opened the pizza box. "Have I ever let you down?"

Reaching for a slice Spike replied immediately. "You've never let me down."

"I don't intend to either, remember that." Lou reached for his own slice.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Frank returned with carryout and with much effort kept the wide smile from his face. The phone call to the pig had gone better than he expected. The shock in the young man's voice and then the stunned silence had been like a narcotic to the criminal. He had felt himself go hard as he listened to the labored breathing of the frightened young man. Hanging up he knew that he would try to find a way to stop by for a "visit".

"Here's the food." He sat the bags down.

"About damn time. Did you have trouble?" Petar complained.

"No, the Thai place was busy, so it took a while."

"That better be the only reason." Petar shot a look at the other man.

"You worry to much my friend."

"I'm not your friend and if you do anything stupid, I'll kill you myself."

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

By the time that the two men had finished the pizza, a crew of technicians had arrived and were attaching hardware to Spike's phone. During the instillation Greg had also arrived and had been talking with Spike about what he remembered from the call.

"All done." A technician that Spike didn't recognize spoke. "Let's go over this a couple of times with you so that you can use it correctly."

Spike rolled his eyes and Lou had to bit back a laugh. Spike probably did know more about this system than all the others put together.

One of the other technicians came from the bedroom and looked at the young man attempting to educate Spike. "I know I don't need to explain this to you Constable Scarlatti, but I want to remind you that if you have a private call that comes in all you need to do is hit this button to stop the recording. Just remember to keep this guy on the line as long as you can."

Picking up their tools, the techs left and the three men were left alone.

"Are you going to be alright here tonight?" Greg looked at his young team member.

Lou jumped in quickly. "I'm hanging out and we'll come into work together."

"Lou, there is no reason for you to sleep on my couch tonight." Spike protested.

"I know, but I'm going to stay."

"Spike," Greg placed a comforting hand on Spike's shoulder. "Thank you. I know this is uncomfortable for you, but it's a possible lead on the home invasions."

"Just keeping the peace boss." Spike down played the thanks.

"See you in the morning guys."

Greg shut the door behind him and left the two men alone.

"Well, if you're staying, you know where the blankets are. Just remember I get the shower first in the morning because there is no way that I'm going after you."

"Run out of hot water once and a guy gets pegged for life."

"If the shoe fits buddy."

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Frank had bided his time; John and Petar had watched the news and then a late movie, finally both had fallen asleep. Sliding out of his bed, he quietly pulled on his pants and shoes. Grabbing a light jacket, he walked to the door and opened it. Glancing back he could see the others still sleeping. Perfect. Nothing like a little late night booty call, call being the operative word.

Of course Frank realized that he couldn't actually go to the pig's house, but even a phone call would be enough to remind him of the pleasure and power he had experienced. The convenience store around the block had a phone outside and that is where he was headed.

Two young men were hanging around it as he approached. Pulling change from his pocket, Frank looked at them. "Why don't you find someplace else to be."

"Why don't you? We're waiting on a call."

Opening his jacket just enough for them to see the gun stuck in his waistband, Frank smiled as they begrudgingly moved away from the phone. Dropping in the money, he punched in the number he had memorized.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Spike heard the phone ringing and without even thinking he reached for it and answered sleepily. "Spike."

"Spike?"

"Yeah." He yawned.

"I like it. Next time I'll whisper it in your ear as I come."

Instantly awake, Spike sat up in bed. He looked at the phone in his hand and was moving to place it back in the cradle when Lou opened the door to his room.

Lou had woken instantly with the phone call and when he heard the male voice on the other end he knew that it must be Spike's attacker calling again. Planning to give Spike moral support he opened the door and was not surprised to see his friend's state of shock. Making eye contact with Spike, he shook his head and made stretching motions with his hands.

Spike took a deep breath and spoke into the phone. "There won't be a next time. If I see you again I'll kill you."

The sound of Frank laughing was loud enough for Lou to hear it.

"I doubt that "_Spike_"," Frank's tone was lewd. "The way you were squirming around and pushing back, I know you were liking it. You can admit it to me. You wanted it."

Feeling his anger and embarrassment rising, Spike's voice was a sharp whisper. "You raped me. I didn't want anything."

"Oh Spike, you might be trying to kid yourself but you can't fool me. When you came all over my hand, you were begging me to give it to you. I remember thinking what a hot fuck you were. You know what, I think this time I'll let you blow me first."

Spike closed his eyes. He couldn't stand to look at his friend Lou, to see the disgust in his eyes over the sick and twisted acts he had been a part of. "Bastard."

The bed shifted as Lou moved to sit by his friend. A hand on his shoulder squeezed firmly enough to relay the message that Lou was there for him. Opening his eyes and steeling his resolve to not let Frank take any more from him, Spike continued. "Why don't you come over right now then Frank? If you're so sure I want you, come over and face me in person."

Frank laughed again, "Oh, you'd love that wouldn't you. I like it better when you are a little more reluctant. I like the challenge. I've been imagining you tied to your bed, begging for it. Why it's enough to make me hard right now." His hand rubbed at his pants.

Looking at Lou, Spike motioned to see if enough time had passed. Lou shook his head and held up a finger. One more minute and there would be plenty of time for the department to have traced the call. "That's the only way you can get it, isn't it?"

"Ah, you're trying to insult me. Isn't that cute Spike? Get me angry enough to come over there and meet you on your terms? Remember one thing," Frank's tone turned harsh. "I'm your master and you're the bitch. I own you constable. When I want it, I'll be along to collect. When that time comes, there isn't anything you or anyone can do to stop me."

Lou pulled out his own cell phone and dialed the department. Standing up he stepped out of the room to speak with the constable on duty.

"I will stop you."

"I doubt it. The next time you see me it will be with you kneeling under me." Frank hung up the phone and stalked off to a busier street. One where one might find the release he needed.

Back in his apartment, Spike looked to see where Lou had went. Standing in the middle of the living room, Lou caught sight of his friend and held up a finger to belay any conversation. "You did? Good. We'll be in."

Lou closed the phone and smiled at his friend. "They traced the call. Let's go!"


	9. Chapter 9

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Greg had received the call from dispatch and had been in contact with his team. He had driven quickly to the location and now was standing around the command post that had been set up outside of the possible perimeter. Team 3 had been called out and multiple other constables were in the process of questioning several people who had been around the convenience store.

"What do we know so far?" Greg asked Dave Peyton, Team 3's leader.

"The trace led to the pay phone outside of Martelle's Mini Mart. We had several plain clothes constables check it out. The suspect wasn't visible, so they detained all possible witnesses. It would appear that the two young men," Dave motioned with a head nod towards two kids being questioned individually. "had a brief conversation with the suspect."

"What have you gotten from them?"

"Suspect headed off to the south. He was on foot, so we've got people out looking. We are also putting together a list of possible places he could be staying. Problem is there are at least five hotels in a four block range."

"I can get my guys in to help with the door to door." Greg volunteered.

"I know that you're involved in this case and I can understand you want to find this bastard, but I don't want emotions ruining this lead."

"You know me better than that Dave." Greg's tone was icy. "I'm not going to jeopardize this case. But my guys need to be able to help." His tone dropped to a lower level. "Don't take this away from them, they need it to heal."

"If I get the feeling that anything is going wrong, I'm pulling you and your team and I won't hesitate in letting the brass know I was against it."

"Thanks Dave." Greg pulled out his cell and punched the number that would put him in contact with Ed. "Yeah, what's your location? Great, I'm at the post at 213th and Stanley. Meet me there."

He disconnected and turned back to Dave Peyton. "Where do you want us?"

"Start with this area here." Team 3's boss pointed at a section on the map. "Remember, if you turn up something I expect to be notified immediately."

Greg's face was serious, "You've got my word. Thanks again Dave." He started towards the barricades to meet up with his team.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Lou and Spike traveled in relative quiet. Lou glanced over into the passenger seat and could see his friend was looking intently out the window. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I just want this over, you know."

"I know." Lou glanced again; Spike was now resting his head against the glass. "We don't have to go there. We could head back to your place and wait."

"No. I'm good." Spike repositioned himself and sat up straighter. "I don't think I could wait at home."

"Your mom was probably freaking out, us leaving so late." Lou tried to change the subject.

"Any more she doesn't ask too many questions. I don't want her worrying."

Lou's phone rang and he answered quickly. "Hey boss."

Spike turned towards Lou and tried to pick up on the conversation. Listening to Lou's side only didn't provide much information, but the call didn't last long.

"Boss and the team are starting to work going door to door. They have a grid down around Weston and they are looking for where they might be staying."

Closing in on the area, they passed along an area lined with older buildings, the majority being bars and several strip clubs. "Area is getting really rundown." Spike commented as he looked at the pools of light thrown out by the various businesses.

"Yeah, with the economy being what it is I'm betting it isn't going to get a whole lot better." Lou slowed to turn right at the corner. Various young men and women milled on the sidewalk. "Looks like there is plenty of players looking to earn a buck tonight."

"Stop Lou!" Spike's voice was urgent. He turned in his seat and began to reach for the door handle. "I saw Stephenopolous."

Applying the brakes and moving to the parking lane, Lou was surprised to see his partner jump from the vehicle and take off running down the sidewalk. Grabbing his phone, Lou called Greg and spoke as he ran after Spike.

"Greg! Spike thinks he saw Stephenopolous. We are in foot pursue, headed south on Archer passed 190th." Hearing Greg promise back up, Lou closed the phone and put on the speed to catch up with the others.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

After placing the call to Spike, Frank had walked for a while before finding a bar that suited his taste. There he had enjoyed several drinks and had then went in search of physical release.

The area he was in catered to a wide variety of interest and it was then just a matter of finding someone who interested him and negotiating the price. Tonight he was hoping to find a dark haired boy with soulful eyes. It wouldn't be his piggy, but when a mouth was wrapped around his flesh, it wouldn't much matter.

He had found a young man who was willing and ready, but the price he was asking was a little more than Frank had wanted to part with. He had begun pressing the kid, who had introduced himself as Carlos, and trying to work the price down.

Carlos had been in the process of running his hands up and down Frank's chest when the sounds of people yelling caught their attention. A man was running down the sidewalk; scattering people as he went.

Frank smiled and pushed Carlos away from him. He had recognized the other man. It was Constable Scarlatti and he appeared to be alone.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Spike had zeroed in on the other man and was running flat out. When he had spied the other man he had given no consideration to the fact that he was unarmed, his only thought was to catch the bastard and make him pay.

For a minute he thought he was gaining on Stephenopolous, the distance was closing. The man in the lead turned and smiled at him lewdly; turned back and continued his mad dash down the street.

Suddenly he rounded a corner and headed down a darker side street.

With no hesitation Spike followed along,

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Lou was fast, but he hadn't counted on the aftermath of the first two men. After being scattered and knocked around, people had started to congregate and look at the retreating forms. He found that dodging people was slowing him down. "Hey, out of my way. Police!" Yelling and pushing he tried to part the crowd.

Looking up Lou was horrified to see that Spike and the other man had disappeared.

_**Author's notes: Du Dah Dum…..What is going to happen? Perhaps several of you reviewing would give your input and inspire me to get the next chapter up! See that button? Push it and share the love!**_


	10. Chapter 10

Author's notes: I apologize to anyone who was reading this story. I have never abandoned a story for so long. I just couldn't find the time and when I did I was feeling like I was low on creative juices. Anyway. Here it is, one small chapter to go.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Continuing to jog slowly and looking for a sign of either of the two men, Lou pulled out his phone and pushed the number that would connect him to Greg Parker. It rang twice before Greg's questioning voice was filling Lou's ear.

"Lou, we're on route. Do you still have a visual on Stephenopolous?"

"No. Spike's in pursuit but I don't see either. They are likely headed West off of Chelsea Boulevard."

"We'll spread out to the West to intercept."

"Copy that." Lou punched the number for Spike's phone but wasn't surprised when it went unanswered. "Damn it Spike, "thought Lou. "Where are you?"

He approached an intersection and at the end of the block he caught a glimpse of Spike rounding a corner. Putting on an extra burst of speed he hurried after his friend.

Flashpoint Flashpoint Flashpoint

Spike had not noticed the absence of Lou at his back and he had continued his foot pursuit of the larger man. The criminal in question took another turn down another street. Spike noted that he was pulling closer and he started to think about how he would take Stephenopolous down.

Another sharp turn and they were now in a narrow alley with very limited light. Spike knew that in a few more step he would be able to tackle the man and was preparing himself for that when the other man stopped and spun around.

Breathing heavily the large man smiled a wolfish leer at Spike. "This private enough for you Spike?" He drew the name out crudely. "You probably didn't want anyone to hear you beg for my dick again."

"I didn't want anything. You forced me." Spike spit out.

"At the start maybe, but you loved it so much you came all over yourself."

"Shut up. Put your hands behind your head."

Frank had noticed that Spike had not shown a weapon yet and decided to gamble a little. "And if I don't? You going to shoot me? How will that look? I'm sure your boss is just looking for a reason to get rid of you now that he knows you're queer."

Feeling his temper starting to boil, Spike moved in closer and was planning to wrestle the man to the ground when Frank pulled the gun from his waistband.

"Hold it right there constable. It looks like you didn't come prepared for this fight." Frank taunted him. "Oh I understand, you wanted it this way. You like me being in control. That's alright; I don't mind you being the bitch."

Spike threw himself at the other man with a sudden yell and the momentum carried them both to the ground. Quickly Spike used his position on top to force the upper body of his opponent to stay flat on the ground. Frank started to bring the gun up and Spike grabbed at his arm with both hands. Both men pressed hard, trying to gain possession. Seeing that his position was allowing him better leverage on the gun, Spike threw more of his weight downwards and when he saw the opening he removed his right arm and instead connected with Stephanopolous' face. The blow didn't seem to faze the man and if anything inflamed him more.

The older man twisted beneath Spike, trying to roll Spike off of him. Having made the mistake of moving too high up on the other man, Spike found himself being flung forward as the man below fought of regain control.

Spike's head smacked on the concrete and he felt is vision narrow momentarily. A crushing weight settled on top of him and effectively pinned him to the ground. Stephanopolous was now the one with the advantage and his gun was now pointed at Spike's head.

"I think this was enough foreplay. Are you ready piggy?"

"Drop the gun." Lou's voice sounded close by, but Spike's view was obstructed by the bulk of his attacker.

"I don't think you are in the position to tell me what to do. I'll tell you what. You put down your gun and I'll let little Spikey go after we finish."

"Not going to happen that way."

"I don't think there is much of an alternative here."

"I would agree."

The sound of the shot bounced off the narrow alleyway and a second shot rang out just seconds after. Spike felt the pressure ease off of his chest as the man on top crumbled to the side. Pushing against his captor, Spike slid backwards until he was free of the man. Stephanopolous was bleeding from a large chest wound; a look of surprise on his face. The gun that he had been holding had dropped from his hand and Lou moved over and kicked it out of the wounded man's reach.

"Spike, are you alright?" The worry was evident in Lou's voice.

A nod from the young man was the only answer. Lou could see that Spike's eyes were riveted to the puddle of blood forming around the down man.

"Hey, Spike, buddy. Look at me." Lou paused. "Look at me."

Spike tore his gaze away and looked at his friend.

"He isn't going to bother you again."

The sound of running feet caused both men to turn and look at the end of the alley way. The rest of team one and several additional officers were making their way towards the group; guns drawn and at the ready. As they surrounded the men, one of the uniformed officers knelt by the escaped convict and felt for a pulse. He looked at the others and shook his head indicating that the wounded man was dead.

Greg holstered his weapon and held out a hand to Spike. The young constable was still sitting on the ground, a look of shock upon his face. "Come on Spike; let's get you out of here."

Spike took the offered hand and stood up; his eyes pulling away from the blood. Suddenly a look of horror crossed his face. "He's dead! We don't know where the others are. Other people could die because of me."

"You have never been responsible for what this piece of shit and his friends have done. There is no reason for you to blame yourself for his actions. We will figure out where he and the others have been staying around here. Someone will talk, someone will notice something. These guys will pay one way or another." Greg spoke softly to his young co-worker.

As if on cue Sam spoke up. "Boss, we've got a key from a hotel. It's not too far from here."

Ed spoke up, "I think we should have team three meet us there." He looked at Greg for approval.

"Good plan. I'll stay here with Spike and Lou and we'll wait for the Inspector."

Ed nodded. "Alright, let's go. Lou, good shot."

"Thanks Ed. Get those guys, o.k."

The remainder of team one jogged back down the alley; Ed talking on his radio the entire time. A uniformed officer was starting to put crime scene tape up around the area.

"Let's go sit down." Greg steered Spike over to a doorway with a large concrete step. "Have a seat and let me hear what happened from the time you were in the vehicle on the way over."

Slowly both young men told their story. Spike shaking in anger as he spoke of the taunting by Stephanopolous. "I wanted to kill him boss and so help me if I had the gun I would have done it. At one point I thought I was going to get the gun from him and I knew that when I did I was going to kill him."

"It's easy to say that, but the guy I know wouldn't be able to kill someone in cold blood." Greg reassured.

"I guess we'll never know that now will we." Spike's tone was hard.

Greg continued, "So Stephanopolous had the gun aimed at Spike?"

"Yeah, I was facing him and when we were talking I noticed that he had shifted the gun's position. I felt Spike's life was in danger and so I shot. I fired a second shot immediately because the deceased was raising his gun towards me."

"Sounds like it was a justifiable shooting. Just tell the Inspector what you've told me and there shouldn't be any problems." Greg noticed the Inspector's car pull up to the entrance of the alley. "He's here. I'll go talk to him first. You two just stay here for now." Greg headed down to meet the older man.

"Spike?" Lou spoke quietly. "I know you; we've been good friends for the last three years. You're a good man and after a while you'll understand that you wouldn't have killed him. I shot because I knew he would kill you if I didn't. I guess I just wanted you to know that."

"Thanks."

"You realize that I might be looking at a couple of days off with pay while they review the shooting. I think that's going to be a great time for us to plan that vacation we've been talking about."

A ghost of a smile played across Spike's lips. "It might be good to get away for a while.


	11. Chapter 11

Greg, Lou and Spike spent several hours at the scene and back at the barn answering the questions and explaining the procedures that were involved in the shooting. Greg had seen the remainder of team one return and the thumbs up from Ed told the negotiator that all had gone well. It was very early in the morning when the men were cut loose. As he had predicted, Lou had been given several days off and had his orders to meet with a department psychologist. This was met with his characteristic unflappable attitude and he secured a promise from Spike that they would indeed start planning a shared vacation. Greg had told Lou to head home and he would drop Spike off at his home so with a second promise that the two would meet for lunch that day, Lou drove off.

The two men were quiet for the first five minutes. Greg knew that Spike would talk eventually. It wasn't in the fiery Italian's nature to keep his thoughts in. "Of course he's had some practice now," thought the negotiator.

Spike let out a small sigh. "You're not going to let me out until we talk are you? You'll lock the doors."

Greg smiled ruefully. "I hadn't thought of that. I was kind of hoping that you would decide to talk without me resorting to any interrogation techniques."

"You know me too well boss."

"I try to understand my family." Greg slowed to make a turn.

"Family." Spike hesitated. "We are a dysfunctional one then."

"How so?"

"Sam's messed up from the war, Jules is messed up over Sam, Ed's messed up over being the trigger man, Wordy's messed up over missing his family time, and I think both of us know why we're so screwed up. Heck Lou's the only normal guy left."

Nodding slightly, Greg responded. "Yeah, I guess in a way we all have some issues."

"Issues is putting it mildly."

"Perhaps, but haven't we always worked to help each other with those issues?"

"Yes, but."

"There's no buts Spike. We have always reached out in some way to help one another when we needed it. Whether it was covering for Sam to go and watch them bring in his friend's remains or helping Jules paint her apartment. We do what needs to be done or say what needs to be said. We don't let family pull away and try to handle things on their own." Greg continued, "What happened to you was big, but not so big that we can't handle it as a family."

"You saw how things went when we were talking it out. They feel guilty, I feel," Spike broke off.

"You feel how?"

"Torn. I'm mad as hell at everyone, but I also feel so damn guilty when I look at them because I know if roles had been reversed we would have had the same outcome. I think about when Jules got shot. We were all so mad at ourselves because we thought about what we could have done. But what happened had happened. I never remember her being upset with us for her getting shot."

"I think she did a better job of hiding it. I think she wouldn't mind me telling you that she did feel that way. But she worked hard with Dr. Lura to get past it. Just like I know you can."

"I really don't want to quit the team."

"I never thought you did Spike."

"So, if I come back we can try it again?"

"Yes, but I can't promise you that things will be easy. I know the team sees me as God-like, but I am still a mortal."

"Glad to see your ego is still in check."

"As is your wit." Greg pulled into the driveway of Spike's home. "Get some sleep and I'll see you back tomorrow."

"Will do boss." Spike opened the vehicle's door and slide out. He turned to close it and looked at Greg. "Thanks."

"No problem, that's what your family is here for." Greg smiled.

"Night." Spike shut the door and headed down the pathway to the basement entrance. Letting himself in, Spike headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He had several cups of coffee while speaking with the investigators and he hated the stale taste it left behind. He could catch six or seven hours of sleep before he was planning on meeting Lou for lunch. Looking into the mirror he studied his reflection in the mirror above the sink.

"Jamaica sounds perfect." He spoke to the man looking at him. A man that maybe wasn't as broken as he had thought.

Author's Notes: Of course we know what happens then! Poor Spike, things always take a long time in dealing with, unfortunately with tv we have things neatly solved and handled in 40 plus minutes. Thanks for reading. I have another Spike-centric story in the works, but I want to finish a few other projects first. Thanks. Lane


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